A Slippery Mind
by Badfaith Obviously
Summary: Simba's presentation slips Scar's mind :D


Another white, cold shaft of light, the kind that only appears early in the morning seemed insistent on waking Scar again, for the second time that day. He had stayed conscious most of the night, watching the spiders inject their venom into numerous insects and slurp the organs away. Ew, now that was thinking a bit too far into things, he really needed to quit it.

Actually the spiders had not been all that important, he had actually been dreading the presentation of his nephew, dreading it hard and bitterly. For it sort of sealed his fate as a mate-less heart-less hope-less, godforsaken underdog,  
for the rest of his dull, meaning-less life. That did not do well to bring out his enthusiastic side, if he had one at all.

In the back of his mind what seemed like a dull recording of his brother's voice droned  
again: _'Please do not be late for my son's presentation I'm sure even you can manage that'_. He sniffed with contempt, ah well it was far too early for all of it. He brooded on that for a good twenty minutes and after he was done with it, it sounded something like this: _'Please do not be late for my son's presentation, it would upset me because I am a twit and I am easily amused'_

Scar was perfectly happy being reclusive. Especially if the world was populated by Mufasas and Sarabis. They were so sickeningly happy, they felt the need to nuzzle and grope each other every waking moment of the day, which made catching either one of them alone nearly impossible, how could no one else see it? How could such revolting behavior not bother anyone else? He hated being tread on by the pair of dim-witted saps every single waking moment of every day.

Dammit he deserved _more_ than that!

_He_ deserved to be the one roaring from Priderock every day meeting dignitaries from the other lion prides and even other animals. Having birds who would have normally frightened, drawn to his call. He deserved to be in the midst of things making orders and being respected, relied upon and trusted.

His rant was rudely interrupted by a far off sound, muffled by the cave walls.  
His ears pricked and his pupils dilated.

He heard Rafiki's song suddenly starting off high and sad, it's melancholy rhythm pulsated within his ear drums. The baboon sang everyday, but today he sang a special ballad  
for new blood in the kingdom.

Scar listened, he was not the only one who heard it but he felt as if he was the only one that understood what it really meant. Other animals smiled upon it with joy but for Scar it was the worst possible news you could ever imagine to get so early in the morning, as a new life began an old one faded and threatened to disappear amidst the darkness. Perhaps that was putting it a tad dramatically but how else could he describe it? He would be forgotten when he died he had no heir, no power and no legacy and when he was gone off this miserable world no one would care.  
With these frustrated thoughts  
he lifted his weary bones from the hard cave floor and went out into the sunlight blinking with pain when the heat bore down on his baggy eye lids.

He moved as quickly as he could towards the darker savannah the hills of yellow grass there over looking the darker brush and even beyond that, the barren land of skeletons, high as towers or rock faces.

The lanky lion stopped when he was far off from the rock, it was just a tiny triangular speck in the distance, it looked so manageable from so far away it made him wonder how such a thing  
ever troubled him so.

He outstretched himself in the grass. The dew was beginning to dry but he got a bit of it on his fur. It felt good, those tiny white droplets clinging to his belly, he smirked to himself and took a roll in the grass.

Scar's thin mane flapped about and his shoulder spread and contracted, he stretched and then let himself go limp folding his paws under his long chin.. He extended his claws slightly and dug them deep into the grass. He felt a bit better after a night lain out on the cold stone floor, unable to sleep. Now he felt so weary and peaceful thoughts of sleep tempted him deliciously but he resisted for a while, he had things to ponder.

True, everything the light touched belonged to his brother, and soon to his bloody nephew but what about that shadowy place? He felt an inspiration that lay long dormant under his flesh resurface.

He had much to do if this inspiration was to turn into somthing bigger but all of that could wait, he needed to nap here, in the soft new grass while his nephew was presented uncle-less (Boo hoo!)

He would creep back into his cave after the ceremony, not that he wanted to upset his dear brother or anything.  
'_No, of coarse not, not at all_'.


End file.
